I recently went to one of those “An Evening With…” events that Zocalo puts on; the guest of honor was film director Guillermo Del Toro. Del Toro fans are a cute bunch. Slightly over or underweight, clad in t-shirts emblazoned with bands/movies/video games — and accompanied by someone nice enough to join them for the evening despite their having only a vague idea of who Del Toro is.
Ask a stranger on the street who he is and you might get lucky and find a fan, most will need their memories jogged. “The guy who made Pans Labyrinth”, or “the guy who was going to make The Hobbit movies, but then something happened, and now Peter Jackson is doing them…”. These reactions are adept, but do sell the man short.
Guillermo Del Toro is a geek demigod, an artist in the classical sense, and one of the few true cinematic visionaries that we’ve had the pleasure to behold. His love for movie monsters and his unending fascination with the spaces between embryonic birth and everlasting death, have stirred deep emotions inside of those who watch his films. But his acuity with darker themes rarely manifests itself in conversation. Instead “An Evening with Guillermo Del Toro” provides one with an evening of laughter, introspection, and loving self-deprecation.